


the lights, the lights

by softlyforgotten



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco, The Dresden Dolls, The Young Veins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-22
Updated: 2009-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyforgotten/pseuds/softlyforgotten





	the lights, the lights

ryan stands at the door, almost uncertainly. sometimes it grows hard to draw boundaries around amanda, and it’s always difficult to know what it is normal and what is her allowing you to see something odd and harshly beautiful. he remembers, in quick succession: brendon flushed bright red and amanda biting brian’s fingernails absently and the ache of his jaw.

she’s painting her eyebrows on.

 _ryan!_ she says when she notices him, and she spins awkwardly and holds up a camera, huge and black and clunky, the kind that goes off with a bang, perfectly gloriously unsubtle. _look what we found at the market thing in the last town_ , she says gleefully, and the light flashes bright white bright.

 

 

 

one night, ryan follows brendon to the side of the stage, brendon grinning and half-shouting over the noise. ryan’s only half paying attention, but he hears it when brendon turns to him and says, in a quieter voice, “amanda’s sort of beautiful, isn’t she?”

“what?” ryan says, startled, and then amanda says _we would like to invite a special guest to the stage, ladies and gentlemen_ , and brendon bounds away. ryan stays to see him clap his hand onto amanda’s, and feels his own palm itch. brendon would be warm and dry, he knows, against amanda’s sweat, and he shudders and turns away as amanda thumps out the first three chords.

when he goes in, back to the dressing room to finish make-up and pull on his costume, turn into someone else for a little while, just a very little while, jon blinks at him and says, _you okay?_

“yes,” ryan says, and hums, _oh baby, baby_ to prove it. jon laughs.

 

 

 

brendon holds up one finger, eyes bright, make-up half-washed off, commanding attention. he tilts his head and arches an eyebrow and ryan spies the echo of a gesture from _the sound of music_ , wonders if it’s intentional.

“hup!” amanda says, and brendon rolls forward, an awkward half-somersault on the floor. spencer is laughing, and ryan’s mouth twitches despite himself.

 

 

 

brendon sits at the bench and follows her lead, fingers tripping gracefully over each other. he plays the final discordant note with his eyebrows raised and ryan looks up briefly from his sidekick, narrows his eyes as amanda adds another chord with a flourish.

“i can’t remember the rest,” brendon says, laughing, and amanda pushes him over, begins the creepy dance again – her fingers are alive and separate from the rest of her, ryan thinks. it sounds odd without brian chasing after her, fitting into the odd gaps, accenting the way her mouth forms the word _fuck_ , delighted and vaguely dirty. ryan watches and thinks that maybe he should learn piano.

brendon sings, _missed me, missed me, never thought you'd kiss me,_ and purses his lips expectantly, giggling. amanda grins even though it’s not that funny, places a flamboyant kiss on his head, elbows jutting out at either side, polite pucker settling around her eyes, her cheekbones. ryan watches and watches and watches.

amanda wanders out and brendon traces over the song unthinkingly, screwing up his face when he hits a wrong note, plays around a bit until he finds the right one. he mutters the words half to himself, grinning now and again when he plays a bit really well, until eventually he remembers ryan’s there and looks up.

“we should do something like that,” he says. “nursery rhymes. twisted shit.”

ryan thinks about scoffing, saying something like _what, we have to copy people now_ , or something that will make brendon flush or roll his eyes or get huffy, although he can’t think why, what urge makes him oddly vicious. instead, he just says, “okay.”

brendon nods, and their eyes catch again. ryan stands and feels stupid, doesn’t know whether to walk over to brendon or out of the room. “um,” he says.

brendon smiles, a little shakily, says, “maybe if we—” and then appears to change his mind. he lowers his head and starts an exuberant piano rendition of the sesame street theme song. ryan rolls his eyes and walks out of the room.

from down the corridor he can hear brendon begin again, seek out the forgotten notes.

 

 

 

they climb over a fence one night, the three of them, spilling away from the couple who are kissing on the grass, the guy vomiting in the bushes, the spin of music and lights and noise. really they could have escaped through a side door but the fence seems more appropriate and they escape into the dark city to a park a few blocks away.

amanda kicks off her one remaining shoe (she lost the other one going over the wall, and skipped and hopped her way to the park, laughing laughing laughing) and sits on the swing. brendon rushes from behind her and pushes her up, and up, and up, and for once she is the younger one.

she throws her head back and her hair looks ridiculous, only half of it kept in, the rest falling out in straggling heaps. ryan wonders how soft it is, if it’s greasy.

brendon stands on the other swing, because he can’t fit to sit down. he lurches wildly, and ryan sits on the grass and smiles. amanda is humming to herself, and ryan wonders what she’s thinking about, what she thinks of him, whether he looks like a child to her.

after a while brendon jumps off and kind of falls on ryan, a heap on his legs. ryan is quiet and oddly calm, doesn’t make any noise about it for once. instead, he picks up brendon’s hand and sniffs it, smells the cold iron of the chains.

(amanda’s swing is empty.) she walks towards them and her eyes look odd in the dark. like a cat’s, except instead of reflecting the moonlight she sucks it in (or maybe the moonlight reflects her).

he is still holding brendon’s hand.

“um,” ryan says again, and then he takes brendon’s fingers to his mouth, sucks them gently, breathing out delicately around them. he is shaking, but he thinks that is maybe just the cold.

amanda crouches beside them, balancing. brendon looks at her, and she tilts her head to the side slightly, as though the view will be different from there. maybe it is, ryan thinks dizzily, and brendon isn’t moving, not at all, but he hasn’t taken his hand away, either.

brendon makes an odd noise, finally, a half squeak, and amanda finally finally moves, leans forward to lick at ryan’s mouth, brendon’s fingers still caught there. her tongue is dark red, shiny. ryan draws in a shuddering breath and finds it is the one she has just exhaled.

ryan pulls back a little bit and opens his mouth, and brendon says, fiercely, “please don’t say um.” ryan makes a face and amanda laughs, takes ryan’s hand in hers and leans forward to press a butterfly mouth against brendon’s.

ryan starts laughing, all of a sudden, and then amanda joins in (and brendon, because he can never not laugh when others are). on the way home, she gives brendon a piggyback, and ryan trails behind.

 

 

 

amanda fucks like a guy, pushes brendon down and locks her fingers around his wrists, swinging legs around to sit firm on either side of him, hip bones digging in. she breathes out harsh, and a little mad. ryan presses his hands against her back, trailing down the curve of her spine, until brendon whines and he goes and presses his mouth against brendon’s collarbone, sucks gently at the bruises from amanda’s bites.

when they are finished, brendon and amanda will make him lie still and taste him until he’s trembling, hips bucking at nothing, the two of them like ghosts, never really quite there. he gasps, _please_ , and then, then, brendon pushes harsh against his mouth and kisses him and kisses him, hips grinding against him, and amanda laughs, says _now_.

he obeys unthinkingly.

 

 

 

they sprawl over each other and kick the sheets off. “seriously, how is it so hot?” ryan groans, rolling over.

brendon grins, “that would be me,” which is predictable, and makes ryan groan again.

“i hate you,” ryan says.

“he’s too pretty to hate,” amanda says sleepily, and pats brendon’s head.

“fine then, stick up for him,” ryan answers, and he’s so tired, seriously, if it wasn’t so – why is it so _hot_?

“it’s because i’m pretty,” brendon tells him, mouth close to his ear.

“i’ve changed my mind, i hate you both,” ryan says, but he rolls over and presses a wet kiss against brendon’s jaw.

“ _but you’ve got no right to sit there saying i abuse it_ ,” brendon sings automatically, cheerfully, “ _when you only sleep with girls who say they like your music_ , so there, ryan ross.”

amanda sits up, eyes bright. “hey,” she says. “imagine if we _did_. imagine if we hated each other. how _fun_.”

“what?” ryan says, and amanda lurches forward and off the bed, pulling on clothes in a mess.

“i’ll see you in a while,” she says, and disappears to brian’s room.

 

 

 

they crowd around the computer when it’s finished and grin at each other throughout the movie, ridiculously proud. spencer and brian break off halfway through for a fight with their drumsticks; jon and amanda re-enact jon’s tragic death. then brendon’s voice takes over the credits and they meander off, all except ryan who stands and waits to see zack lay him down on the ground, and he can feel amanda’s arm underneath him, still.

brendon appears behind him, puts his chin on ryan’s shoulder. ryan opens his mouth, but brendon punches him lightly and says, “i know.”

 

 

 

amanda holds the camera up, says, _smile, ryan, come on, smile_ , and brendon pulls an _o_ face next to him. that makes ryan laugh, at least, so when the flash of the camera comes and with it the last photo the last day the last time his eyes are bright and his smile is real.

 

 

 

they changed, he thinks, because they had to; because amanda was amanda and she was off-kilter and impatient and full of an endless frustration, and also ten years older than them; because there would be no going back to the circus.

and they don’t change, because there is the knock of brendon’s hips against his when they wave goodbye to amanda and brian, because the night ryan goes to amanda’s party he comes back to find brendon waiting, tapping on the table, drinking ryan’s coke.

“what are you doing?” he says, because it’s half past one in the morning and he would have stayed over at amanda’s except she was talking to another guy, and she looked interested and her hair wasn’t falling out, not like that night on the swings.

brendon grins sheepishly. “i was just making sure you came home,” he said, and ryan knocks up against him, presses his mouth to brendon’s and whispers _she left, you_ didn’t _, bren_.

“yeah,” brendon breathes, hands tight on ryan’s shoulder. “yes, i know.”

it is a cold breath of air to realise that he doesn't miss amanda.

 

 

 

ryan closes his eyes and turns his face up to the sun. brendon dances past him, ridiculous yellow headscarf smacking him in the face and he doesn’t even open his eyes, doesn’t even – just takes a deep breath and then turns away from the road, towards the cabin and brendon’s lingering gaze.


End file.
